


I Dine with the Blood on my Hands

by 5_Seconds_of_Summer



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Au mob, BDSM, Chaptered, Drugs, F/M, Fluff, Guns, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mob Boss Harry, Multi, Organized Crime, Slow Burn, Suicide Squad CD inspiration, Violence, WIP, but it still moves pretty fast, but not right away, but not too graphic, fem Louis, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:45:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5_Seconds_of_Summer/pseuds/5_Seconds_of_Summer
Summary: Harry is the leader of the local Mafia. Hiding behind a booming real estate business in London, with Liam as his right-hand man, and Zayn and Niall as a close second, he finds himself to be on top of the world.Meeting Louis was not part of his success plan. Actually, to be quite honest, he finds the man annoying, but he finds he can't say no to the guy, either. Something quite scary when he thinks about it - so he doesn't.He can't make a mistake at this point in his life, though, especially because a mistake in his line of work usually means someone dying. So, maybe itistime to start thinking about his and Louis' future together, but then again, he has more pressing matters to attend to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my new story. I have always loved Mafia AUs. Figured, I'd try my hand at writing one. At the rate at which I am writing this story so far, I would expect updates maybe once a week. I'm really falling in love with this one. This will most likely be 14 chapters - one for each track on the Suicide Squad Soundtrack. 
> 
> Also, two hours until Harry's solo song debuts and I'm freaking out. Happy release day :)
> 
> I hope you really enjoy this one. Any feedback is helpful and appreciated. 
> 
> For reference, the [dynamic glass](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sp8kQ2ZhvhA) I mention is real. 
> 
> The top floor is based on [this room/building](http://luxurytrump.com/real-estate/one-at-palm-jumeirah/), but way better in my mind. 
> 
> And lastly, the [Purple Lamborghini Lurkin'](http://cnt.winkal.com/51a861f6e4b0b82a24586a00/XRUC_700.jpg). ;)
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Another one? How can there be so many complaints about theft in one of _the_ most heavily secured buildings in this city? It just doesn’t make sense!” Harry says, slamming his hand down on his large glass desk in front of him.

“I don’t know, boss,” a large man says, shrugging as he does so. He walks in the room to place the filed complaint down Harry’s desk. “Here’s the paperwork. I have Donny looking into it, but I made a copy for you in case you wanted to look over it as well.”

“No, that’s alright, Liam. With so many complaints, it’s about time I took a look at it myself, sooth all of the tenants over. I’m afraid there may be some not-so-friendly people trying to take down my legal operations. If they can take down my real estate business – even just take a beating to my brand – it’ll be hard to explain how I have so much cash rolling in.”

“You think it’s another Mafia? The Irish?” Liam enquires, knowing the two brothers in charge of the Irish mafia are in town.

“Perhaps, I don’t think it’s the Irish though. We seem to get along well now that Niall is on our side. Though, it wouldn’t hurt to ask Niall if he knows of anything. Tomorrow we are all going to the shooting range, remind me to ask him then,” Harry says, already standing up from his desk.

“Aye, boss.”

“A shipment is coming in from America. I’m going to make sure it goes over smoothly down at the port. I’ll have Zayn come with me, it’s his forte after all.”

“I didn’t know we were supposed to be getting a drug shipment in this month?” Liam says, question-like, almost sounding offended.

“That’s because we weren’t supposed to, but a deal fell through with the Germans as it already was halfway here, so I got a heavily discounted price for it. Which is also why I’m going to check it out just to make sure nothing funny is going on. I don’t want to be getting ripped off, if they think they can pull a fast one over on me.”

“Makes sense, need me to do anything else tonight?”

“No. I’ll stop by at The Complex on the way home, check for any suspicious activity. Just in case, have a phone nearby, but I don’t believe it is anything too bad, I’m guessing it would be a lot more noisy if it were. More complaints than just a… stolen blanket,” Harry says, looking down at the paper on his desk. "Have a good night,” Harry says as he makes his way out of his office, waiting for Liam to leave as well before locking the door behind him.

“You too, boss,” Liam says, and they both part ways as Harry makes his way to the parking garage next to his office. He makes his way over to his new Purple Lamborghini Aventador, loving the mirror look of the new paint job. God, he loves having money. He places his bag on the seat next to him before quickly pulling out of his spot and onto the adjacent road. He speeds well over the limit all the way until he reaches the main city – and even then, he only slows because it is impossible to manoeuvre around the cars in front of him.

He pulls up to the curb in front of Zayn’s flat and waits a few seconds for the man in question to arrive. Knowing not to keep the boss waiting, Zayn is sat in the care within ten seconds of Harry’s arrival. “Boss,” Zayn acknowledges with a slight nod in his direction.

“Zayn,” Harry greets back. Not a second longer is wasted as Harry begins making his way to the pier. “There is a list of numbers in my bag,” Harry says, nodding towards his bag that has made its way to the floor by Zayn’s feet. “Those are the numbers of all the containers coming off the boat that are ours. We need to make sure they all end up together in our warehouse building instead of getting mixed up with the other products coming off the ship. Please, check them off as we go.

“I have another thing I have to do tonight,” Harry continues. “Just a quick run, nothing too serious. Niall should be in the warehouse checking to make sure the stuff is legit and supervising the unpacking of it all. I want you to help him out and then he’ll give you a ride back. I’m going to head out after I see it all makes it to the warehouse okay.”

“Sounds good, boss.”

They stand up on a dock, purposefully hidden in the shadows as they check off each container on the list. Harry reading off the numbers as Zayn verifies on the document. Once every container has been accounted for, Harry gives a parting comment and makes his way back over to his car, as he allows Zayn to head over to the warehouse.

The Complex is Harry’s real estate pride and joy. He spent three years designing it and another two working with people to construct it. It stands tall, just outside of the city, in one of the most upscale areas in London. It’s sleek in style, glass and white marble making up the entirety of the building. It is also the most secure building – well, second if you count his own home – in England.

A fact that leaves him gobsmacked over how people are having items stolen from them. He actually wrote off the first person as a liar until more and more reports kept coming in. It’s never anything too expensive either, so he is confused as to what message the person behind everything is trying to send him.

The building is set up so that you swipe you type in an identification code into the elevator and it takes you to your floor. There is no need for any elevator lobbies as you just enter your flat right as you step of the elevator. Harry, being the owner of the building, has a key card that has access to all floors of the building, though he never really uses it. He only uses it in emergencies, or if he is invited in to another’s area, not wanting to impose. Plus, well, he _is_ a busy man, he has better things to do.

He decides he will sweep the entire building from bottom to top just to check for anything suspicious. He makes sure to alert the tenants of his presence before stepping into their home. No one has an issue with him checking around. He’s sure they all probably gossip with one another and therefore know of people’s things getting stolen – an image he isn’t too keen on keeping. He does smooth things over with the people who have had things stolen from them, promising to pay double the value of the items stolen.

He’s starting to lose steam as he finishes the second-to-last floor, knowing no one has lived on the top floor for the past couple of months. He seems to have come at a dead end, finding nothing even _remotely_ suspicious on every floor. Suddenly though, as he is stepping out of the elevator, he hears a crash to his left.

He turns as he reaches for his gun, tucked in the back of his trousers. Upon a quick observation, he decides not to take his gun out. The person staring back at him doesn’t look like any person in the mafia would. Small, fragile, no he couldn’t hurt a fly. Plus, he looks terrified.

While the building itself is Harry’s favourite piece of real estate, one of the main reasons – if not _the_ reason – is because of the top floor. The top floor of the building is made up entirely of floor to ceiling dynamic glass. It cost a fortune, but he wanted to be able to see a three-hundred and sixty degree angle of the city anywhere on the floor. By using dynamic glass, he was able to make it so you can change if you want the bathroom to be opaque or not, as well as the bedroom. It truly was astonishing, just the push of a button and the windows become opaque – Harry’s upset he didn’t think of the idea himself.

“Who the hell are you?” Harry asks, still on edge. Even though he doesn’t look like a threat at the moment, he’s come to learn situations can change in the blink of an eye.

“Please don’t – please don’t hurt me,” the man – boy? – pleads.

“Why would I hurt you?” Harry asks, calculating.

“I know who you are,” the man replies simply, causing Harry to briefly pause. He doesn’t recognise the person in front of him. Though it could be he just forgot their encounter, Harry usually has a pretty decent memory – kind of has to in this business. Though Harry is sure he didn’t let his confusion show on his face, his silence must have spoken for himself as the man elaborates. “Or rather, I know _of_ you,” he amends.

“Everyone does, I’m the wealthiest bachelor in London,” Harry says, which is true, to be honest.

“I know of your _real_ job.”

“And what is that?” Harry asks mockingly, pretending to not have a clue as to what Louis is talking about. And, well, for both of their sakes, he hopes that is true.

“I heard them talking,” the man continuous ominously. “There were two guys who come in here every Tuesday at exactly seven-forty-two in the morning. They always talk about ‘The Boss’ as they trade off, you know? I always hide in the kitchen cupboard. One day, one of them came in, swearing like a sailor. He was yelling about ‘The Boss,’ only this time, he mentioned you by name.”

That is alarming to Harry for multiple reasons. Firstly, just how long has this guy been staying in The Complex without his knowing? And secondly, who the hell are the men that come here every week. Harry doesn’t have anyone reporting to this building at the time for normal security checks. Though, then again, why should he believe this man he just met?

“How long have you been staying here?” Harry asks, again, making sure to leave all emotion from his face – something he has had to perfect over the years.

The man hesitates, “Just under three months.”

Harry swallows. Has he lost his touch? The fact that this has been going on under his nose for the past _three_ months and he, nor any of his men, have noticed. Perhaps some of his men have, and just haven’t told him about it. If these two men have been coming here every week for at least the past month, what else has been happening?

“And these two men? Do you have names?  Why should I believe you? After all, you would have a good reason to be lying to me right now.”

“Are you going to kill me Harry?” the man asks. “I saw you reaching for your gun. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Right about what? You haven’t said anything of substance yet!” Harry says. “The only thing you’ve done is make up a story about two guys and claim I’m some type of boss. Which, yeah, I am. In case you didn’t realise, I _own_ this building. I _own_ my own real estate company!” Harry says, becoming more menacing with each word.

“That’s not the type of boss I’m talking about, and I think you know that.”

“I have no such knowledge.”

“I guess they never said for sure,” the man acquiesces. “But I have my suspicions based on what they were trading back and forth between the two of them.”

“Which was?” Harry sighs, getting nowhere with this man.

“Depends the week. The first couple it was just drugs – nothing too criminal, though it definitely wasn’t your run of the mill drugs. After that it was bigger stuff – guns. Hand guns, then military grade. I may be overstepping my boundaries here –”

The man gets cut off by Harry, saying, “Here? You’ve been staying rent free here for three months, but _this_ is where you are overstepping?”

“Harry,” the man says, smiling just a little. “Boss, if you will, I believe you have two people stealing from you.”

“This is all here say. Do you have names or not?” Harry says, headache coming on strong.

“I’ll tell you what, boss,” the man says, taking a step forward.

“Stop calling me that.”

“If you promise not to kill me, I will tell you their names.”

“I don’t know why you think I am capable of killing someone,” Harry says, laughing a little under his breath at the fact that he has probably had a hand in killing hundreds – if not thousands – of people.

“Because you are the leader of a mafia – _the_ mafia. Are there more than one mafias? How does that work? Is it like one per country? Do you all know each other? Is it just one big mafia spread out over multiple countries?”

“Stop talking,” Harry commands.

“Yes, boss,” the man says with a smile.

“Do you know how crazy you sound?” Harry asks, sneering at the small man before him. “The mafia! That’s a laugh,” Harry continues. The small man’s face falls for a second, before he visibly puffs up his chest, holding his head high.

“Then I guess you won’t be needing those names…” he says, and waits for Harry to take the bait. And well, to be honest. Harry had to. At this point, it seems Louis already knows too much. It seems the story is true as there is no other way Louis could have concluded that Harry was in the mafia, let alone the _leader_ of the mafia. Plus, if there are in fact two people stealing from him, he damn well needs to find out who. Upon Harry’s hesitation, the man prods once again, “Just promise not to kill me.”

“Fine,” Harry says, after all, Louis has no tangible proof against him. “What are their names?”

“You don’t honestly think I’m dumb enough to tell you here?” the man asks with laughter in his voice.

“Enough with your games!” Harry suddenly bursts, causing the man to take a step back. “What are their _names_?”

“If I tell you right here, right now, there is nothing to stop you from killing me right afterwards. And, based on what I know already, which I am assuming is correct based on you wanting to know of their names so badly, it would make sense for you to do so.”

“What’s your name?”

“Louis.”

“Well, Louis. I’ll tell you what. You have my word, I will not kill you. We will go downstairs together, and as soon as we are in the public eye, you tell me their names. Should you try running as soon as you can though, well, let’s just say I have ways to catch up to you,” Harry threatens.

“Sounds good enough,” Louis says, and makes his way over to the elevator. The quick ride down is equal parts awkward silence and tension. As soon as the doors open, both men release a sigh, stepping out of the elevator and immediately out of the building. “Max George and Tom Parker were their names. I’m one-hundred percent positive of that.”

“Thank you,” Harry replies and immediately turns around and dials a number, leaving Louis in the dust.

“Wait, that’s it?” Louis calls after him before he can get to far away.

“Yeah, I figured I wouldn’t press charges because you are potentially doing me a solid on this one,” Harry says, still walking in the opposite direction. Louis runs after him, not wanting to drop the conversation so easily.

“But I know so much, aren’t you afraid I’ll go to the police?”

“You know nothing,” Harry says, point blank. “You have a lot of interesting theories, I’ll give you that one, but you have nothing. No tangible proof, no evidence, nothing. Now, please stay out of my building, I will be installing more cameras in the meantime, so don’t think I won’t notice your return.”

“But, I have nowhere to go.”

“That sucks, no if you’ll _excuse_ me, I have to make a phone call,” Harry says, making his way over to his parked Lamborghini.

“Let me work for you,” Louis tries one last time as Harry is entering his vehicle.

“What?” Harry says, ignoring the person on the phone for a second.

“Let me work for you,” Louis repeats, making his way closer to Harry. “I have a lot I can offer. Think about it, I have been living here, undetected, for three months. I could be a – a spy!”

“A spy?” Harry deadpans, unamused.

“Yeah! Gather intel and all that.”

“You don’t know anything about my line of work. You are of no use to me. Quite frankly, you would get yourself killed before you could even return to me with any information.”

“Then train me! Put me to the test!” Louis says. “No one will come looking for me, no one wants anything to do with me! Even if I die, you won’t have to answer to anyone! Anything! I’ll do anything! I just need a place to stay.”

“Anything?” Harry asks, levelling him with a look.

“Anything,” Louis promises.

“Get in the car,” Harry says, with a short nod in the direction of the passenger seat. Louis throws a quick celebration, but rushes over to the other side of the car to get in before Harry could change his mind. “Liam, we have a situation.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please, any thoughts or ideas are welcome. :) 
> 
> Allie


End file.
